


Missed You

by PenzyRome



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: "For a while" aka 2.5 years, Authors!Davey and Race, Davey and Race are the fiction writing Dream Team, Davey and Race have been on tour for a while, Jack misses Davey and Davey hasn't slept in 3 days, Kath and Sarah aren't mentioned but theyre teachers and have 3 kids hell yeah, M/M, Married Javid? Married Sprace?? It's more likely than you think, this is a bad title sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2017-12-08
Packaged: 2019-02-11 20:17:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12942984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PenzyRome/pseuds/PenzyRome
Summary: Spot had to make sure Jack didn't show up two hours early. Jack was astounded at Spot's patience. When one's husband is traveling the world for two and a half years, one is a bit inclined to miss them like crazy.





	Missed You

**Author's Note:**

> "Why"  
> I had spare time and the motivation to write 1000+ words of fluff, never question me again

     “Please, sir. Come on, I’ll be out in fifteen, scan me with the metal detector if you want, all I have is a bunch of flowers,” Jack said. 

     The security man looked like Jack had asked for his firstborn. “Listen, I can’t let anyone besides passengers through, and I’m off my shift in a half hour, and I just want to get home to my partner.”

     “Then you’re queer! Or they are. Please, man, I haven’t seen my husband in two and a half years.” Jack clasped his hands together. “I know it’s not your choice, but  _ please _ . I can even get you my husband’s autograph. This sounds so gross to say, but I think thirty seconds is gonna kill me. Please.”

     “I get that you love him, but I don’t think his autograph is worth that much,” the security man (“Wilson” his nametag read) said dismissively.

     “What if I said he’s David Jacobs?” Jack blurted. It was his last card, the one he never pulled. The My-Husband’s-Being-Called-The-Next-Great-Writer-Card. For a second, he thought it would be worth it-- Wilson’s eyebrows rose into his hairline, and Jack crossed his fingers inside his pockets. Then Wilson (damn you, Wilson, Jack needed this,) sighed. 

     “I’m really sorry, but…”

     Jack groaned. “It’s okay, dude.”

     So Jack sat down and chatted with Wilson for a while. He was actually very nice company, and seemed extraordinarily in love with his spouse. About fifteen minutes in, Spot came skidding towards them, and pulled out his wallet.

     “I’ll pa--”

     “Spot, he didn’t give up,” Jack interrupted, and Spot frowned.

     “You pulled the card?”

     “Yeah, I pulled the card.”

     “Goddamn.”

     And so, Spot joined him against the wall, making small talk about Race sending him two snaps: one of some pretzels Davey had handed over after losing a bet as to what the captain would say first, and one of Davey listening to music and scribbling something down on a napkin.

     “He wanted me to show it to you,” Spot said. “He said it’d make you swoon.”

     It did. God, Jack just wanted his husband back. 

     “So,” Wilson said after a while. “What do you two do? Like… Career-wise?”

     “I teach,” Spot said flippantly. “P.E.”

     “I’m an artist,” Jack added. “But honestly? I’m a househusband. I clean stuff. I’m a good cook. I resubscribe to Hulu.”

     Wilson nodded, the corner of his mouth twitching, and Jack resumed watching the top of the escalator. After a while, Spot passed over his phone, which was open to the Star Wars Angry Birds. They passed another twenty minutes or so like that, and Jack’s back was starting to hurt when Wilson said something quietly.

     Jack groaned. “Dude, I’m running off Five Hour Energy, please speak up.”

     “Um, the flight from London just came in, so they’ll be getting here soon,” he said, and Jack jumped up, his back cracking three times in the process.

     “Spot, they’re gonna nee--”

     “Two caramel frappuccinos for Davey, the largest black coffee known to man for Race.”

     “You’re a god.”

     For five minutes, Jack checked his phone over and over, hoping for a notification or a text or  _ something _ , and then he got the best possible thing: one Davey Jacobs stumbling down the escalator, backpack in tow. Race followed behind, small suitcase on the step after him, and Jack didn’t care about anything else: Davey was home. Home in New York. Home in New York with  _ him. _

     “ _ Davey _ !” Jack charged straight past Wilson, who didn’t even try to stop him. Davey looked up, and his face split into a massive grin. The corners of his eyes scrunched up, and Jack only momentarily thought about the fact that the dark circles under his eyes were mildly worrying. Just as Davey stepped off the elevator, Jack crashed into him, burying his face in his husband’s shoulder. Davey laughed, hugging him so tightly Jack’s heels left the ground. Race groaned and pushed them away from the end of the escalator so he could step off. At some point, Jack started crying into the strap of Davey’s backpack, which set off Davey.

     Race started complaining, (as always, couldn’t he let Jack have this,) “Davey, we legit won a Newbery and this is how you choose to--  _ Spot _ !”

     Davey laughed, and Jack pressed his face harder into his shoulder until Davey shouted, “Oh,  _ gross _ !”

     Jack raised his head up and gave Davey a deadpan look. “They’re making out, aren’t they.”

     “This is publicly indecent,” Davey muttered, and then sighed with relief. “He set down my coffee before… they started.”

     And so, they wiped their eyes and made their way towards the baggage claims, stopping so that Davey could pick up his caffeinated relief.

     They passed Wilson, and Jack grabbed Davey’s hand to guide him over. “Dave, this is the very nice security guard who tolerated me and Spot for a while. Wilson, this is my husband.”

     Davey held out a hand. “Nice to meet you.”

     Wilson took his hand and shook it faintly. “You too…”

     “Wilson?” Jack prompted, and it seemed to shake some sense into him.

     “Oh! Wow, hi. Um, could you… his rummaged through his pockets for a while and came up with a napkin. “Sign this?”

     “Of course!” Davey signed it and gave him a sunny smile. “Anything for the one who had to put up with my husband and brother-in-law for who-knows-how-long.”

     Wilson seemed to be picking up courage as he went along. “In that case, is Rosa seeing Jeanne through the Stone supposed to be romantic or platonic?”

     “Absolutely romantic.”

     “Really?”

     Davey made a “shush” sign and nodded. “Mhm. I tried to make it clear, but Race mellowed it down a little. He wants the big reveal to have a little surprise. Now shh, don’t ask me anything else, as I am jet-lagged and easy to manipulate.”

     “Thank you!”

     Jack had been watching with amusement, and stopped to pick up his abandoned flowers. He held them out to Davey. “For you!”

     “Thanks, love.” Davey rubbed tiredly at his eyes. “Anything else?”

     “That’s all,” Wilson said, the dazed look back on his face. “Thank you so much.”

     “No problem. It was lovely meeting you.”

     “You too!”

     Jack took Davey’s arm and guided him away, restarting their trek to the baggage claim, Davey holding a frappuccino in each hand and his flowers in the crook of his elbow. In a few minutes, they were back outside, Jack loading up the trunk of his car while Davey guzzled down his coffee. Once they were both securely in the car, Jack leaned over to kiss Davey on the cheek. 

     “I missed you a lot. Don’t leave for a while.”

     “Missed you too,” Davey murmured, playing with Jack’s spare hand. “I love you a lot, by the way. Didn’t get to say it when I was crying.”

     Jack looked over at him, sighing a little, his cheeks hurting from smiling too much. “I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> yup anyways Wilson's a nerd  
> Anyways, please come scream at me on tumblr dot hellsite @penzyroamin (general) or @dreamsanddaylilies (personal/original content)! Talk to me I'm friendly I swear!


End file.
